


Remember, In The Tent

by cuter_than_a_guinea_pig



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Camping, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuter_than_a_guinea_pig/pseuds/cuter_than_a_guinea_pig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When he saw Connor and Daria the memory of that night in the tent always came forth to taunt him. It was an image of what might have been somewhere off in another dimension. And it was warped now, twisted with his own lies and Connor's anger, hollowed and greyed. It had lost its vibrancy of innocent youth."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember, In The Tent

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ok so i kinda picture this all happening in the scene where taylor tells jude that she pretends shes watching the discovery channel when connor and daria go at it. and yeah, sorry if it doesn't fully answer the 'what happened in the tent' question. it was originally my intention to do so but i was having trouble creating it so i went with this instead. hope you still like it and feel free to let me know what you think  
> -Katie

Haunted had always meant something terrifically bad to Jude. Ghosts and demons always haunted the characters in books and movies, refusing to leave, creating havoc not only when they appeared but also in the fear they instilled when they left people wondering when and where they might return. They left the character to feaster in their own chaos of panic and violation, leaving them with no one to turn to, to grow colder day by day as the light was drained away from their soul. These mystical fiends were not always so mystical in Jude’s own life though. The tirades of drunken living, human, men seemingly followed him wherever he went, loud, angry, violent, uncontrollable, unprovoked, and impossible to fend off. Purple and blue bruises siphoned the colour from the rest of his skin leaving it pale and lifeless. Grey bags formed under his eyes from lack of sleep as his haunters followed him into his dreams. Even when he and Callie got replaced they still stalked his mind, twisting it to conjure the terrifying memories of their past abuse, fists, belts, shoes, bottles. 

Since the adoption and with it the promise to never again be placed face to face with any of these monsters, the nightmares had begun to subside and the hauntings took on a new form. 

It wasn’t fear based anymore. It was now something achier, almost sickly. The men who bellowed, demanding that the world hear how a child had wronged them unimaginably so were now replaced by a boy who didn’t say much at all. He didn’t yell or hit. He was never drunk out of his mind. The only offence he had committed against Jude really was simply existing. Or maybe not. Maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was the way he would sit next to Daria but under the cover of darkness, hold his hand. Maybe it was the way he would kiss Daria in front of him and how it was never just a simple kiss. Her hands were always in his hair and his around her waist. They never seemed to care that there were other people around and when they finally parted for air Jude could see the slight swell in Connor’s lips. 

Being made to witness their make out sessions made his chest tighten and his stomach sink so deep and land with such a heavy thud that it seemed impossible to ever be able to climb back up again. He must have been able to though because he always fell again the next time, trapped in the cyclic torture. Breathing hurt, thinking hurt, everything just hurt. 

Jude was tired of hurting. He was tired of always ending up on the wrong side of fate. But like the others, this wasn’t something he could shake off and move on from. When he saw Connor and Daria the memory of that night in the tent always came forth to taunt him. It was an image of what might have been somewhere off in another dimension. And it was warped now, twisted with his own lies and Connor’s anger, hollowed and greyed. It had lost its vibrancy of innocent youth. When it came back to him now, the butterflies that had awoken in his stomach were missing. The imprints of teeth marks on his lips where he’d been biting them to contain his smile were gone. His heart no longer raced when Connor whispered into the quiet night, asking if he was still awake. The moment no longer promised a bright future ahead where words like boyfriend and love flowed openly and uninhibited and so there was nothing for his heart to sprint off towards. Jude’s breath no longer hitch when Connor rolled over and scooted towards him, reaching out for one of the drawstrings on his hoodie to twist between his fingers as he muddled through his words. 

“It’s nice out here. Quiet. Almost too quiet. There’s nothing to drown out my head.”

“Same,” he had smiled almost melting into the warmth of Connor’s body. “W-what’s it going on about?”

Connor had looked up at him and even in the dark Jude could see the wheels turning behind his wide, almost pleading eyes. The trees rustled outside from the wind but they never really intruded on the scene, alone together, free from everyone else’s ideas and expectations. “Stuff. I don’t know. What about you?”

“You can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything.” 

“I guess, um, well it’s kinda about what my dad said. But not in a bad way or anything,” he had rushed to clarify, his eyes returning to where he was still playing with Jude’s drawstring. 

“About me being gay?”

“I guess, yeah. I mean I guess I just never thought about any of that before but now…”

“Now what?” Jude had prompted, taking a deep breath of the cool, night air to stave off the defensive tone that was trying to creep into his voice.  
Connor had looked up again and then Jude watched him inch closer and closer until he felt their lips meet. Soft and slow and Jude didn’t really know what he had expected Connor to say or do and maybe this was in there somewhere but it still left him surprised and completely unaware of what to do or say when Connor pulled away, letting go of the drawstring, and rolling back to his side of the tent. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered.

“It’s okay,” he had whispered through a smile 

And it had been okay. Then at least. But now he no longer saw his own smile. Now he only saw Daria’s. And so now it felt different, transparent. Connor was either just curious or he really did like Jude but was just too afraid. It didn’t really matter which. Neither gave Jude what he wanted and neither expelled the ghosts that now haunted his memories.


End file.
